Out of this World
by Anne M. Clover
Summary: I needed to clear my mind. So I went for a run only to find myself falling into darkness. When I finally woke up, everything was out of place; out of balance. I was lost and on uncharted territory. I was out of this world, and trying to find my way back home. If only it were that simple.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

All I remember is falling. I don't know how it all started. I was running my usual trail like every other morning. The only difference was that I had been angry with my father that day. I remember that, because I regret my last words to him, the last words he would ever hear out of his only daughter's lips.

 _You're the reason mom's gone_.

Of course, I didn't mean it. Not really. My father is not perfect, but neither am I. We all have our faults, and I shouldn't have said that. , I'd had enough and he wouldn't hear me. I couldn't take it anymore. So, I snapped like any teenager would.I said some god-awful things, screamed like a deranged spoiled brat, even threw a plate at his face.

I missed thankfully.

I loved my father. Yes, he was demanding and yes, he was a control freak. But he was all I had. When I realised what I'd done, I couldn't believe how hurtful I was to the man who had raised me. So, I did what I always did when I needed to cool off and let off some steam. I trained. And at the moment, the easiest escape was running.

I barely had enough time to slip into my running shoes and dash out the front door before my father could stop me. I would always remember his last words, just like I remember mine.I was halfway through our driveway when his words reached me and it took all I had not to trip over my guilt.

 _I've only ever wanted what was best for you, May._

I urged myself forward and ran as fast as I could for as long as I could. Until I fell that is.

And what a fall it was.

I felt it all; the gripping fear you experience when you drop suddenly as well as the adrenaline that rushes through your veins; the wind whipping through your hair, tangling it beyond repair. I felt it all as I fell through shadow and water. And then, darkness came over me.


	2. The Awakening

**So this is something that I wrote a while ago. I decided to polish it somewhat and post it since a few people thought this story deserved attention. I have other chapters written, but I don't know when I will be able to update. I am very busy these days and what was written years ago is sometimes no longer relevent to the story I am currently trying to write.**

 **So, be patient with me.**

 **And keep me posted. If you like this, don't be shy and review.**

 **jshaw0624: Thank you so much for your support; This means so much to me to know that someone is interested in what I write, even if it is just one individual in this whole wide world. Thanks. A lot.**

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 **Chapter 1: The Awakening**

I think I fainted somewhere during my fall because I can feel myself waking up. For a moment, there seems to be no up nor down, no left or right. I feel no gravity and the world rotates around me rapidly just as it appears to stand still. I don't know which is which. I don't know anymore. My head is spinning for what feels like an eternity until it slowly settles down.

When I've finally come to my senses, the first thing I do is open my eyes. But I can't see anything. Everything around me is pitch-black. It is so dark, I wonder if I've become blind. I shut my eyes close again only to open them shortly after, wishing my sight will come back to me. Close. Open. Close. Open. I still can't see nothing other than absolute darkness.

I try breathing, but I can't. There seems to be something blocking my airway.

I try listening, but everything is muted down so I only hear a slight echo of nothingness.

I try moving, but it is as if I am suspended in time, my movements hindered by an external bending force.

Obviously, I react as any sane person would. I start to panic. I don't know where I am. I don't know what happened. I don't know if I'm even still alive. Is this what death feels like? Is this heaven? If so, I don't like it. Not one bit. I doubt I'm in hell. It sure is an uncomfortable enough environment but I have done nothing in my short life to guaranty my entry into the burning pit.

I trash around as best as I can against the sheet that is wrapping itself around my body, slowing my movements. I only feel it slightly as it brushes my skin, but I know it is futile to fight back for any sharp movement I make is rendered weak. I scream as loud as I can, though no sound leaves my mouth. Instead, it is filled with a freezing liquid that is rapidly flooding my lungs.

That is when I realise what is happening. I'm in a body of water. And I'm downing.

I can't let this happen. I can't die. Technically I can, but I don't want to. I'm running out of air quickly, so I start moving around, trying to swim in one direction hoping it will lead me to the surface. I paddle my legs, swing my arms, but with every stroke I make, I seem to go deeper and deeper into the water, facing my impending doom head on.

I still can't see anything and I still can't breathe. I am rapidly exhausting any energy I have left with my frantic gestures. No matter what I do, nothing seems to work.

I realise then that this might just be it. This might be the moment my life cease to be. It certainly feels like it, especially when I stop moving, allowing the current to take me away. I am tired of fighting. I don't have anything in me to fight with anymore. Everything I tried to get out of this mess has been futile. And now, I just want to go to sleep. I have accepted my fate as one who has given up. I will forever be one of those missing children the authorities assume got kidnapped. Or some people will make up a theory about how I was abducted by aliens and am now currently being probed on their spaceships. The point is; my father will never know how much I regret my last moments with him. Come to think of it, he will never know what truly happened to me. I was all he had left in the world, and I just vanished out of thin air only to land in water and die. I know he is strong and he will, with time, get over my death. That is why I don't feel so bad about surrendering.

I close my eyes knowing I will never open them again.

As I wait for death to claim me, I can feel the end approaching. Ever since I awoke in this infernal water, I have been unable to see, hear, move, and breathe. Until now. I can finally see ahead of me.

I see a form in the darkness, a body submerged by water. I see myself, floating there, unmoving – dead. I can finally see the light breaching the surface. That is, of course, of no consequence since I am no longer able to move my body. I am no longer _in_ my body. Ironic, is it, that when we die, we witness everything. Life doesn't flash before your eyes; your death does.

I suddenly hear a splash. As I look around, I notice that something must have entered the water for there are ripples on the surface. A dark shape is advancing toward my body, pushing with all its might against the current. It wraps itself around me and start paddling up, dragging my lifeless envelope in tow. I feel a tug that links my spirit to my body, forcing me to follow it to the surface. After a moment, I am now in the air, surveying what is happening from above.

I see it. The thing that is dragging me out of the water. It is no dark shape, no reaper that is dragging my ass to hell. It is a man. A man who is carrying me to shore in a failed attempt to save my life. He lays me down on the rocks as he moves my head to see if I will start breathing. Obviously, I don't.

I look at the scene in front of me. I know this is me down there. I know this man, this savior, is touching my face. I know I should feel his fingers on my cheek as he is gently jostling me around, but I don't. He seems to be talking to me, but I don't hear him. I only see his lips moving. I am watching a girl that has just died as if it wasn't me, because I don't feel anything, and I absolutely don't feel dead. I feel light. I am slowly floating higher in the air. I keep my eyes trained on my body as it gets farther away from me. I want to see as much as I can before I leave definitely.

I see the man starts pushing on my chest. He pumps a couple of times, never losing sight of my face. He is trying to reanimate me. He is clearly getting frustrated by my nonresponsive body. He then presses his lips to mine. And it tingles. It actually tingles. I pull my fingers to my lips in fascination. This is the first sensation I have had since my fall. I then feel a pressure on my chest that seems to be crushing my heart. I look back to my body and realise that the crushing feeling that I am experiencing is actually in synch with the movements of this man. Every time he pushes, I feel it.

And then, I hear it.

"Come back, little one. Don't give up." This voice is calling me. I know it belongs to the man because the words match the movement of his mouth. He is beaconing me to him, back to my body.

He then presses his lips back to mine. My lungs are being filled with air. It is filling me with so much more than simple oxygen. All my senses have come back to me in an instant. I can feel and hear this man fully, as if he were right next to me. The link between my spirit and my body is being mended. I am overwhelmed by sensations that have been foreign to me since I came to in what I now know to be a river. I feel this tug in my gut, as if a cord is pulling me down of its own accord. One second I am floating away; the next I am sucked down at a quick speed. And then, darkness. Again.

\- xXx -

I spurt out the water that is in my lungs. My head is being turned to the side as I literally spit my lungs out. Then, heaven as I take my first big deep breath of air. Then, hell as I literally choke on the air I am gulping.

"Easy. Take it easy, little one." His hand on my back is keeping me on my side, allowing all the water that was in my lungs to come out. He his slightly moving his hand in circles and I know he is trying to comfort me.

This man. My savior. I thought for sure I was gone for. However, because of him, I can live to see another day. I won't leave my father alone behind. I am not dead. I'm alive. I am alive. At this sudden realisation, I start giggling. I feel his hands grab my arms as he slowly rolls me onto my back. I continue laughing as his fingers brush my hair away from my face.

I move my head from left to right in an attempt to stop my foolishness, but it is harder than it seems. Gravity has once again an effect on me as it pulls all my limbs down to the ground. I try lifting a hand and it takes me a while to get it to actually move. I gently rub my face and I sigh as I feel my skin on my fingertips. I'm alive.

I open my eyes slowly. The sun is glaring at me and it takes me a while to see anything other than white light. I blink a couple of times and things start to get in focus. I see green leaves of trees as the wind rushes through them. I see birds flying after one another in the blue cloudless sky. My vision blurs slightly, but I am not worried. I recognize this phenomenon. Tears are filling my eyes.

I then listen to my surroundings. I hear the trees as they dance with the wind. I hear the water flowing on my left. Then, just as I feel a hand on my shoulder, I hear it. His voice.

"How are you?"

My eyes fall on him and I am taking aback by the depth of his eyes, blue as the azure sky framed by thick dark eyelashes. They are a stark contrast to his tanned skin. His brows are pulled together in worry, concern I know he has for my wellbeing. That pulls me out of my staring trance. This man just saved my life and I am gawking at his eyes.

I try to talk, or rather mumble all my gratitude but no sound other than a gargling abomination comes out of my mouth. I cough for a while before trying again.

"Thank you." I finally manage to say. "Thank you." I repeat with a smile. If I could not express my absolute gratefulness to him with words, I could damn well show him by the smile on my face.

The edges of his mouth pull up as he shows me his teeth in one of the most honest smile I have ever seen.

"You are most welcome." We smile at each for a moment for there is nothing better to do at the moment. He had just saved my life. This still hasn't sunk in. But one thing I know, I owe him everything.

"Come. We should get you somewhere more comfortable." He offers me his hand so he could help me up. Now that he mentions this, the rocks on the riverbed were killing my back. I briefly glance at him before giving him both of my hands. He gently pulls me up into a sitting position only to stop when I groan. Everything aches, from my lungs to my pinkie toe.

"Wait. I don't think I can get up." My forehead creases in frustration. I have always been a strong girl, my father made sure of that. I should be able to stand up without any help. But my body apparently had a mind of its own.

"I won't let you fall. Come." He places an arm around my back and swiftly raises me up until both my feet are grounded. He never lets go of me and I can tell he is holding me up, although it hardly shows. My weight doesn't seem to bother him at all. He waits a little to see if I can stand on my own. He releases me slowly, and immediately my legs start to wobble. At once, his arm is around me again, preventing me from falling down on my face. I groan, outraged at my own weakness. "It's alright. Little one. You simply need rest."

I turn to look at him and realise I really am a little one, compared to him. As a matter of fact, I have never seen someone as tall as him. How he manages to cross a door threshold is beyond me. He must have noticed the awed look on my face because he grins at me questioningly.

"You're so tall." Is my simple answer.

He chuckles in response. "So I have been told by men before. Now, will you let me help you get to safer grounds?"

I nod because there is no way I will be able to get up that hill to the edge of the trees on my own. I simply did not have the energy.

He keeps one arm around my back while I feel his other one slip under my knees. The next thing I know, he's carrying me up the hill as if I weighted nothing more than a cat. He gently lowers me down on the grass before making sure I was fine. Then he goes back down the hill only to come back up with what I assume is a small duffle bag, some discarded clothes he must have dropped before jumping in the water – and a SWORD. He then sits down, his back to a tree as he fumbles into his bag. My eyes are still glued to the sharp piece of metal my rescuer carries around with him.

"Here, it's not much, but it will make you feel better." My eyes lands on his face only to see him hand me a piece of bread.

I nod, thankful as I grab the food. I still eye him strangely. There is no reason why he should walk around with a sword, rescuing damsel in distress. There is no reason he should be dressed the way he is either. He is wearing these high leather boots and this woolen shirt that he could tie at his neck with one single cord. On the ground, there is this overly long jacket that would cover me from head to toe.

The stranger continues looking in his bag, unaware that I am scrutinising him as I eat my bread. After my last bite, he looks up, once again to make sure I am alright. He hands me a piece of cloth that resembles a long sleeved shirt if only it wasn't so long.

"You're shivering. Your clothes will be the death of you." He pulls something out of his bag and I see he is handing some sort of leggings. I did not notice the cold until he mentioned it. By the looks of it, he is no better.

"What about you? You are as wet and cold as I am."

"I am." He agrees. "However, I did not almost drown, little one. You need them more than I do. Also, I have still some clothes that are dry." He points to his jacket on the ground and what I can only presume is a cloak. A cloak that strangely looks like a cape. A freaking superhero cape. Who is this guy?

I must have been staring at him peculiarly because he sighs. "Please. It would do no one any good if you caught a fever now. I will put your clothes to dry while you sleep. This arrangement is only temporary."

I look around me, trying to recognize where I am but this is a scenery I have never seen before. Everything is so quiet, yet the environment is bustling with life. Frankly, I have no clue where I am and this stranger seems to be the only living soul around, as weird as he may be.

I finally nod in agreement, because he is right. I don't have anywhere to go at the moment, or rather I can't go anywhere in the state I am in. I have to trust him. And he saved me. Why would he save me only to kill me with a sword after? I extend my hand so he could hand me his clothes. He then stands up with his dry own clothes in hand.

"I won't be long. If you need anything, shout for me." He then turns around toward the woods to give us both privacy to change.

"Wait. Who should I call for? I don't even know your name!"

He looks at me, as if pondering my question. It takes him a moment to answer. "Aragorn. My name is Aragorn."

Well, his attire isn't the only thing queer about him. Nonetheless, I'm in his debt. "I'm Maeve."

He nods at me in a form of greeting. Just as suddenly, he turns around on his heels and vanishes into the woods, a sword attached to his hip, a bow in hand and a quiver full of arrows strapped to his back.

Seriously, is this man for real?

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	3. Where is here exactly?

**Hello guys,  
As I said, I already had this chapter written, that is mainly why I was able to upload it so soon after the last one. I only had a couple of things to revise. It shouldn't take me too long to update since Chapter 3 is mostly done as well. After that, I can't pomise anything. There are many chapters written to the story, but they happen so far down the line that you won't read them anytime soon. I will try not to take an eternity to update though. I do know what it's like to wait impatiently for an update. **

**A big thanks to you guys, you who are supporting me. Also to the people who already added this story to their favourites. Thanks, you're awesome.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Where is here exactly?**

Where is he? Aragorn has been gone far longer than is necessary for a change of clothes. Could something have happened to him in the woods? Armed the way he was, I doubt it. But where is he? I am fidgeting on the ground, my fingers playing with the overly long sleeves of the shirt he has loaned me. I don't know where I am and this giant goes off and abandons me on the borders of a forest. The sun is starting to set and everything around me gets creepier by the minute. I am not used to being outdoors in nature. I seriously can't see any sign of civilisation anywhere nearby.

There are almost no more light. I have changed out of my wet clothes, but that doesn't mean I am not still cold. I just want to be back in my house with electric heating. I guess that won't be a possibility tonight. I really don't want to be out in the woods, especially not alone. I don't know how to build a fire, something I desperately want in this moment, both for heat and protection. I find solace in the fact that Aragorn left his bag with me. Surely, he would not leave without his stuff. That must mean he will come back.

But where is he? How long does a man take to change out of a wet shirt? I pull my hands in my sleeves before wrapping my arms around my knees, determined to show no fear while I wait for my rescuer. I hate feeling so dependent on someone, but right now, I need him. I need him to tell me that everything will be alright. I need him to take me home in the morning. But above all else, I need him to build me a damn fire so I don't lose my toes out of frostbite. Hopefully he knows how. I peg him as someone who can make a fire with his eyes closed, what with his habit of carrying outdated weapons.

Suddenly, I hear rustling behind me. I turn around and try to see something other than the countless trees. Something is coming closer, making its way towards me. I cross my fingers hoping that it is Aragorn and not some foul beast that will eat me for dinner. I roam my eyes right and left, trying to see where the sound was coming from, but to no avail. Then, I can't hear anything. Whatever it was, it has stopped crawling in my direction, and for that I was grateful. There was little I could do against a hungry animal, not in my current state and not ever.

I turn back around to face the river as something furry drops right in front of me. I squeal in terror as I push myself further into the tree I was resting against. I feel absolutely stupid when I hear a chuckle. I crane up my neck only to see Aragorn grinning at me, obviously quite amused by my startled state.

"Where have you been? You can't just leave a girl alone in the woods." I shout, both annoyed and relieved at his presence.

He grabs the inanimate things he had just dropped a feet away from me. "I was hunting. The bread I gave you was the last I had."

"Hunting?" I look at what he is holding and see two little white rabbits. "Oh, I am not eating that."

He eyes me curiously as he starts gathering wood around us. As he snaps a branch in two using his hands, he asks me "why not, little one?".

I gape at him. _Why not?_ Maybe because they look like rabbits and not steak! I snort, expecting it to be enough explanation as to why I would not eat the furry little bunny. After a moment, I realise he was seriously awaiting an answer.

"I can't eat that. It's an animal!"

"You don't eat meat?"

"Of course I eat meat." I almost snap. "Just not meat that looks like a thing I want to burry my face in as I pet it."

"Oh, and what sort of meat is that?" He arcs an eyebrow, smirking at me as if I were a petulant child he was indulging. Well, to him, I probably am just a kid. After all, he has small strands of grey in his dark hair, and I have just become a teen in the numeral sense of the word, being thirteen years old.

"You know, the one you buy in the grocery store that is already cut and looks nothing like an animal."

"Grocery store?" All trace of humour has now left his face. His eyes are scrutinizing mine, searching for something. Did he not know what a grocery store was? Who was this guy? Tarzan?

"Yes, grocery store." I repeat. "A market where you buy food." That last bit seems to appease him somewhat as I watch him resume his activity of gathering wood for the fire.

It only takes him a couple of minutes to actually start a fire. As soon as I feel the warmth produced by the flames I scoop a little closer to the fire and extend my hands towards it. I stare pointedly at the moving embers that float all around me as I try to ignore the sounds of Aragorn's knife as he skins the rabbits. I know he is right. We need to eat. There was so little bread earlier that I satisfied my hunger for only a little while. I am almost currently famished. I can only imagine how hungry this grown man could be. Of course, the idea of eating those little animals disgusts me, but I have no other choice. I know nothing of plants, so I don't know which ones I can eat and which ones will most likely give me diarrhea.

In the corner of my eyes, I see him working on our meal and I wonder what has made him the way he is. This man, this Aragorn, is so unusual. He is nothing like my father or any other adult I have met in my life. He seems civilized enough, with a certain animal quality to him. He seems to be quite accustomed to the wilderness, never flinching as he peels of the fur of those animals he just killed moments earlier. The way he dresses as if he can become one with nature, disappear at will into the wild. He also looks like he could use a bath. Who knows how long he has been wandering around here. He is definitely rather strange.

However, the way he speaks and holds himself goes against the idea that he may be a somewhat savage man. Not that he is barbaric. Well maybe he is; he does carry a sharpened sword with him. But I don't fear him. I can't bring myself to, even though I perhaps should. I trust him. He has done so much for me. He saved my life, gave me clothes and he's even cooking for me – a somewhat disgusting dinner, but it's food nonetheless. I decide then that Aragorn, whoever he might be, is someone trustworthy. Maybe I'll come to regret my decision later on, but as of now, I'm tired of being suspicious.

We remain quiet as he cooks our meat. I don't mind the silence between us. It is not an uncomfortable one. I have a feeling he is a rather quiet man who enjoys his solitude at times. I can understand that. I am someone who loves spending time with other people, but I need my moments alone. I hate being the center of attention, always being under the ever watchful eyes of others. I always feel like they are waiting for me to make a faux-pas. Crowded environments are what I tend to avoid at all costs. That is mainly one of the reasons why I enjoy running so much. I am alone with only my thoughts to entertain me.

I was playing with the grass next to me, deep in my thoughts when I feel Aragorn much closer to me than he was before on the other side of the fire. I look up and see him sitting down on my left. He scoops back a little to lean on the tree. He smiles at me as he picks up something off the ground only to lay it on his legs. It is a tree leaf, about the width of a human head. On it, I could see he had cut the eatable meat in slices. There is no head, bones or fat; nothing other than boneless meat one would buy at the grocery store. I look to him and smile in gratitude. I know I'm about to eat bugs bunny's little friends but I won't have to stare at their faces when I chew on them.

He throws a round object at me and when I catch it, I see an apple in my hands. He then stakes a piece of meat with a knife before handing it to me. I take it from his hand as I watch him pull out another knife from his left boot so he could use it as a fork for himself. I stare at him in awe. This man is weird, there is no doubt about that. This man is dangerous, that much is evident due to his hidden arsenal. This man is also kind and cordial. He just readied the food to meet my very whims.

I can't think of way to thank him properly for all he has done for me. He just keeps on adding to the very list of things I am grateful for.

"Aragorn." I finally break the silence. He lifts his head to stare at me, quietly acknowledging that he is listening to me. "Thank you. Seriously, thank you. For everything. You didn't have to do any of that."

He stares at me for a moment. "You don't have to thank me. What would you have me do? I couldn't possibly let someone so young as yourself drown. Not only freeze to death, or die of famine."

"Well, not everyone would go out of their ways to save a complete stranger. Most people are so self centered they don't even see an inch beyond their nose. Myself included." I mutter the last part, because it is true. I never really realised it until now. After all, I did just run from my father because of selfish reasons. My week schedule is full and I don't really have a second of respite. Between school, chores, my lessons and my training, there is barely enough time for me to make friends. When a girl asked me to attend her slumber party next weekend, I desperately wanted to go, even if it was just to escape my life for two days, and be allowed to eat junk food for once. Because of my own stupid wishes, I am now in this mess. I don't even know how I got here. Or where _here_ is for that matter.

I see a piece of tissue enter my peripheral vision and I realise Aragorn is handing me a handkerchief. I peer at him in question and I instantly recognize the wetness on my face as tears. Great. I take it hastily so I can wash away the traitorous tears – meanwhile asking myself who still owns handkerchief instead of plain old Kleenex.

"You do know we are all allowed mistakes? All we have to do is acknowledge them, and try to redeem ourselves by doing everything in our power to correct our errors."

There he goes again, proving just how enlightened and humane he can be. He seems so rough on the outside, yet his eyes speak of a gentle soul who is quite knowledgeable.

"And you are still young, little one. You are not past redemption. You can still learn." The smirk on his face reaches his eyes as he obviously enjoys teasing me.

"That's comforting, old man." I snort. If he insists on calling me little, I will respond with a colorful adjective of my own. He simply laughs at my new found name for him before shoving a piece of meat in his mouth, not in the least bit offended by his new nickname.

We eat in silence after that, watching the last remnants of sunlight reflect in the water before it disappears completely behind the trees on the west side of the river. This reminds me, I still don't know where I am.

"I've been meaning to ask you. Where are we? And do you have a phone on you I could use to call my dad? I wanted to ask you before you left, but by the time you came back, it totally slipped my mind."

He turns his head to fix his eyes on me. I can clearly see the questions in his eyes as he seems to ponder what I just said. I wonder for a moment if maybe he doesn't know where we are himself. Perhaps he was just marching through the woods without a clear destination when he heard my trashing in the water.

After a moment, he finally speaks. "You want a _phone_?" It is as if he sees no reason why I should need one in a moment like this.

"Yes. To call my father and tell him I'm alive."

"A phone?"

"Yes, a phone. A telephone." I repeat, exasperated.

"And what is that?" His eyebrows are up almost to his hairline. For a moment, I think he is joking. Then, I realise he is seriously awaiting an answer on my part.

"What is a phone? Come on. You can't be so old that you don't know what a phone is. Nobody is that old. Or that recluse for a matter of fact."

His eyes remain fixed on my face and I see he really has no idea what a phone is.

"Where have you been living your entire life? In a cave? There have been phones around since the turn of the last century." I am getting frustrated by his ignorance. It would have been nice to call my father and reassure both him and myself that everything is alright. To not own a phone is one thing. To not having a clue as to what it is, that is completely ridiculous.

I chuckled humourlessly. I look ahead as I shake my head. I can't believe it. I was saved by the only man in the whole wide world who doesn't know what a phone is.

"Maeve." This is the first time Aragorn actually calls me by my name. This catches my attention, as I am sure it was his intention in doing so. I turn my head and stare into his eyes that express all the honesty I need to believe his next frightful words. "There are no _phones_ here. Just as there are no _grocery stores_."

It takes me a moment to register his words. He grants me that moment of silence during which I feel my whole world crumble. I spy around, desperately trying to notice something, anything that will point out where I am. None of this makes sense. All I remember before my fall is that I was running. I was running on the pavement down my street. I was making my way around the park as usual. There are no rivers nearby, not even a little creak. There are no dense woods as there seems to be right here, on both sides of said river. There is no way I could have fallen and rolled down a hill until I dropped into a river I never knew was there. I live in the city for god's sake.

Come to think of it, I should be able to hear cars, even if only in the distance. I should be able to hear honking and people shouting at each other because they almost bumped into one another. There is an airport nearby. I should be able to hear planes. But I haven't seen one single airplane ever since Aragorn dragged me to shore. The only thing I can hear is the crackling of the fire and the wind as it whistles through the trees.

I look to my left, my agitation clear in my stance and my fear evident in my eyes.

"Aragorn. Where am I?" I gulp. I don't want to know the answer to my question for I am certain it will ascertain what I already know to be true: I am no longer home.

He sighs as he lowers his head, slowly shaking it from left to right. Obviously, he has come to the same conclusion as I have. That is why this man seems so weird to me. I must appear as weird to him as he to me. Each and every glance he has given me, they were all puzzling me out, deciphering me. I thought his attired was out of the ordinary when it was me who was out of place. _Am_ out of place.

I sniff, trying to keep the tears at bay. Who am I kidding? I am just a kid. I don't know what I am supposed to do. Right now, crying seems to be about all I can do. It's a good thing I have this handkerchief Aragorn gave me earlier. Ha! Of course, no phone, why would there be Kleenexes. I am now full on sobbing. I feel his hand on my shoulder as he tries to comfort me. He doesn't question me. He doesn't exact anything from me, even though I am the outsider here. He lets me take all the time I need to gather my wits before continuing this excruciating discussion. That is why I'm taking benefit of his compassion and go on crying some more.

\- xXx -

"So. Do you have any idea what could have happened to me?" My voice is hoarse from all the crying I have been doing this evening. I have finally been able to keep my emotions in check. I need answers. If I ever want to go back home, I need to start figuring out what happened. I need to know if there is a specific reason as to why I am here, and no longer there.

Aragorn hasn't said much since it became clear that I don't belong here and that he just saved an alien. Because that is what I am. I am from another world than his. I literally am his little green man. He doesn't seem to mind though. He doesn't threat me any differently than he did before. He doesn't walk on eggshells. He is as considerate as ever, although he doesn't grin so much anymore; maybe because this is no laughing matter.

He brings his hand to his mouth, a gesture I am starting to recognize as his thinking stance. "You ran and fell?"

"Yes."

"That is all? You ran, tripped, and fell into the water?"

"I didn't trip. I was running and then the ground gave in. As in, there was no more ground." I correct him.

"A hole?"

"Not really. Yes, I suppose. A hole that appeared out of nowhere. It's like the world I was in got deleted, and there was nothing around to keep me grounded to it. So I fell."

"Deleted?"

"Removed. Eliminated. Was no more."

"I get it." He smirks, the first sign of humour on his face since my little meltdown earlier. I smile back at him, although it is a little forced. He is taking this situation infinitely better than I am. Of course, he is not the one who has no idea where he is, nor if he will ever succeed in travelling back to his own world, that may or may not be immensely different from this one.

God, I don't know anything about this world I am currently in. Maybe... maybe everybody is as tall as Aragorn. Maybe Aragorn is small compared to everyone. Maybe pigs can fly. I don't know, and that's a problem. I need to remedy that. Sometimes, ignorance is not so bliss.

I put a hand on his arm that lies loosely on his bended knee. "Tell me everything."

"Oh! Hum–" he obviously does not know where to start. He breathes out, a little unsure of what to say next. "You are in Arda, most precisely in Middle-Earth."

"Oh, well I am from planet Earth. So there's that." I snort as I wipe a tear away from my cheek. He smiles although it doesn't reach his eyes. We both know that is probably the extent of the similarities between both of our worlds.

I wrap my arms around my legs, bringing them close to my chest. I rest my chin on my shoulder as I look at him, waiting for him to tell me something else about this _Middle-Earth_.

"You took a dive in the Bruinen." He points a finger at the river that nearly swallowed me whole. "In the common tongue, it means _Loudwater_. It is situated in the realm of Eriador and it is close to Imladris, most commonly known as–" He stops as he sees he has completely lost me. He chuckles at my wide eyes. "Maybe I should explain all of this to you once we are settled in Rivendell." He pauses, only to let a grin plaster his face. "And perhaps a map would be of some aid."

"I think that would be best." I agree instantly. Although something has picked my interest, so I ask one more question. "Just to clarify: the common tongue of what?"

"Elvish." That was his simple answer, as if that would satisfy my question and in no way astonish me.

"Elvish?" He nods. "As in Elves?" He nods again. "As in little leprechauns with their magic rainbows?" He doesn't understand that reference because his brows furrow slightly. "Imps? Goblins?"

"No!" He exclaims almost abruptly. "Elves are not Goblins. Nor are they Imps. They are rather tall actually. Goblins, for their part, are quite foul creatures and they resemble nothing like an Elf."

"Oh. Sorry." I mumble. "I can't believe those are real."

"You don't have elves in your world?" He asks quite surprised, as if running into elves is quite a daily occurrence in these parts.

"We don't have Goblins either. Don't tell me all the legends and myths are real here. That would be scary."

"Such as." He eyes me expectantly, waiting for me to elaborate.

"I don't know. Mermaids, unicorns, centaurs, trolls–"

"Trolls are real." He interrupts.

I gape at him, not quite certain if I want my next question answered or not.

"Trolls?" I show him the space between my thumb and index, indicating about three inches of height. "Or trolls?" I extend my arms upwards and outwards as if to show something enormous.

"I would say they stand at about 8 to 10 feet tall."

I slowly shrivel further into myself as best as I can, horrified at the simple thought of ever encountering one of those creatures. The smallest I appear, the less of a target I am if a troll decides to attack us on a short notice. So, that's what I do: I curl up in a tiny ball.

Aragorn is clearly amused at the sight. "Do not worry, little one. There are no trolls in these lands. Indeed, we are quite safe on the eastern shore of the Bruinen. You can sleep in peace."

"Sleep? How do you expect me to sleep now that you've told me trolls exist? And that Goblins exist. Next, you'll tell me gold digging dragons exist too!"

He doesn't say anything, but the look on his face is confirmation enough that I may have been spot on. I raise my hand to prevent him from opening his mouth before I utter "don't... Don't answer that."

He laughs, finding this whole situation quite hilarious. I personally think I'm going into shock. He leans to his left and grabs a few branches of wood and places them in the fire, keeping it going and alight. When he sits back up he sees my face and realise I am actually, truly frightened.

"Maeve, I'm serious. You are safe here." He puts a hand on my shoulder and bores his eyes into mine. "You should sleep. I won't let anything happen to you. I will stand guard."

"You need to sleep at some point too."

"I have gone far longer without sleep. You are exhausted. Sleep. I will wake you in the morning when it is time to leave. We have a little less than four hours of walk until we reach Rivendell. There, you may find some answers to your questions."

I grumble as I try to make myself comfortable on the ground. Wherever I lay, there seems to be a tree root, or a pinecone, or some other natural things that keeps stabbing me in the ribs. I hear Aragorn chuckling lightly as I see him pull his cape over me.

"Won't you get cold?" I look at him.

"Stop worrying, and sleep." Alright then. There is no need to scold me. The cape is so big that I could fit three times in it. I gather it a little in a mound so I can rest my head comfortably on it and not risk poking my eye out on a twig somewhere. That is much better. I close my eyes and try to tune out all the environing sounds. I trust Aragorn. If he says I am safe, then I'm safe.

Maybe when I wake up, this would have all been a dream. I doubt it, but a girl can dream.

* * *

 **Don't be shy. Review!**  
 **Keep me posted on what you think of this so far :D**

 **And all my love goes to you readers**


	4. Into the Woods

**Well, I officially suck. I told myself if I ever started writing fics again, I wouldn't take so damn long to update. I have failed miserably. Despite good reasons, I cannot apologise enough to those few out there who are waiting – maybe not so patiently anymore – for an update. But I was on vacation with no computers and when I came back… my old dinosaur decided to die on me and take all my files down with it. And stupid me didn't have a copy of this fic. I always take three copies of everything when it comes to school works but fanfiction? I just didn't think it mattered. Until now because I had to rewrite the whole Chapter 3, and I lost everything else I had written about this story. It doesn't mean it's dead. This is simply a minor setback.**

 **So I'm asking patience, especially since for the next month I will be working overtime at my job. I will try to not take an eternity to update because I know what it's like to await one. I have been there and I still am for some stories :D**

 **Thanks to my beautiful followers and and major thank you to those who put this little figment of my imagination in their favourites already: CGKrows, HardyxLover, Katherine Sparrow, Ksenia50903, Kyouki no kitsune, ReadsToMuchALot, Stjarna22, pepsilover138, sousie**

 **Jshaw0624:** As I have said, I will try to update as much as I want. I just need time to get this story started. But I have so many good ideas (well, I personally think they are good :D), I don't see myself just leaving it unfinished. You just need to be patient and understanding with me.  
 **Reader 1:** Whoever you are, I am looking forward to sharing Maeve's arrival to Rivendell with you too. I am giddy just thinking about it. Hint: remember the first time you saw Rivendell on screen :P  
 **ReadsToMuchALot:** Thank you :D I hope you keep on liking. If you don't, tell me why. I'm always up for a good justified review.  
 **Katherine Sparrow:** I know Maeve is slightly shaken by this whole ordeal, but she won't be for long. She will not be a Mary Sue if I have a say in this. And I believe I do.  
 **Sousie:** I believe I just did, and you can take this update as a gift to you. Hopefully it will have been worth the wait.

 **So, I hope you guys enjoy and I promise to _try_ and update soon.  
:D**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Into the Woods**

I open my eyes a little startled as I feel a hand gently but firmly shake me awake. I groggily rub my eyes, sweeping the sleepiness away, half wishing I could stay asleep. I turn my head slowly to face the person who has just woken me. The first thing I register is dark wavy hair. Then, a pair of blue eyes comes into view. And everything is suddenly abundantly clear. I groan and turn my head back on the side, closing my eyes again.

"It's all real then." I mumble and I do not have to be looking at Aragorn to know he is smiling at me sadly. "I was hoping all of this was just a dream. A very vivid one."

"I am sorry it is not so." I smile at him, silently saying that none of this is his fault. He should not feel sorry about any of this, especially not for me. I don't want his pity. What happened to me is unfortunate, and so far unexplainable, but I will not sit around and mop all day. I cried enough yesterday as I wallowed in my own sorrows. Not today. Today, I take back control of my life.

I lift my head up a little. My forearm is laying on the ground as I push myself in a somewhat seated position. Instantly, I groan quite loudly. Everything aches. My back is so sore, I don't know if I can ever get myself to stand up fully. Sitting is already so hard. My head is also spinning a little. I must have made a face because Aragorn is chuckling next to me. I send a little glare his way.

"It's not funny." I rub my lowing back, trying to sooth the pain.

"You get used to it after days in the wild."

I don't say anything back, because I don't ever want to have to leave the comfort of a house, ever again. It is official; I hate camping. There are bugs everywhere and in my opinion, the ground is no place comfortable enough to sleep. I hope, where we are going, that there are finer sleeping arrangements than what I have experienced last night.

"Where are we going again?" I ask as I brush my fingers through my hair, trying to smooth the tangles out of it.

"Rivendell, an elven city. It is located at the edge of a narrow gorge of this very river. However, it is well hidden in the moorlands and foothills of the mountains. It cannot easily be approached by strangers. One can get lost many times if not used to the terrain."

"So, how are we gonna get there without getting lost?"

"I know the way." He says simply as he gets up and walks a few steps away.

I eye him curiously and slightly confused. I can think of many ways to describe Aragorn, mysterious being one of the many qualifications that come to mind. Be that as it may, aside from his incredible height, he looks likes any man I could have encountered in my everyday life. His appearance is rather roguishly normal. But quite frankly, I have no idea what an elf is supposed to look like. He did say elves were tall creatures. Maybe the only difference between a man and an elf is their height. Despite that, he did refer to them as _they,_ not _we_. Still, I have to ask.

"You're not an elf, right?" I ask hesitantly as I stare at his back. I know my question is silly when I hear him chuckle.

"No. I am not. Believe me when I say, you will know elves when you see them, little one. I was raised in Rivendell as a child though. It is homely and elf-friends are more than welcome to stay there, for as long as they wish. You have no reason to worry."

"I'm not. Worrying that is."

Aragorn looks over his shoulder with a look that clearly says he doesn't believe me. I send yet another little glare his way before he turns his attention back to whatever he has been doing facing the woods. I can see his head shaking from left to right, and I am grateful for this, for the way he is with me. He doesn't treat me like a lost and fragile child. He doesn't stop himself from teasing me and I know it is all in good humour. With him, I feel normal, dare I say even equal despite our age difference. For a moment, I can almost pretend I didn't travel to another world altogether. I am just Maeve; and he is Aragorn. No last name or complicated background. He makes me forget all my worries. And I am grateful to him, for more than saving my life yesterday. In being himself, he makes everything a little easier.

A second later, he walks back to me, my clothes in hands. We had left them hanging on a tree branch to dry last night. "They are not entirely dry. You can keep the clothes you are wearing at the moment. They will be more comfortable for you to walk in."

I nod in silent agreement. The clothes he lent me the day before are surprisingly comfortable for such plain things. The tunic is ridiculously long, reachingway below my knees and I constantly need to pull up the sleeves in order not to drown in it. I also need to roll up the ends of the leggings at least five times to see my tiny feet peaking out. The waist is, of course, overly large, but it's nothing a belt can't fix. All in all, it is plain to see that the clothes don't belong to me, but to someone twice my size.

Aragorn folds my humid clothes into his bag. I am about to protest and say I can carry them when I realise I have nothing to put them in. And, from the little I've learned about him over the last hours, there is one thing I know for sure: He is a gentleman of sort. I'm ninety-five percent certain he would not let me carry my things on my own, especially not since what happened the day before. When he is done packing my stuff in his bag I mumble a small 'thank you'. The look he gives me shows me I was right in my assumption. He would never have let me carry a bag on my own, not after I almost died less than twelve hours before.

It takes me an eternity to get up and stand on my own two feet. Every single one muscle in my body is aching and burning. I have obviously over exerted myself trying to survive against the raging current of the river I now know to be called _Loudwater_. If you ask me, it should be call _Deathtrap_ or _Swallowing Pit of Hell_.

Once I have thoroughly stretched myself and Aragorn has extinguished the fire and packed the remaining of his belongings, we set out on our journey through the woods. It doesn't take me long to realise that Aragorn could be leading me anywhere and I wouldn't know any better. I am profoundly lost and my sole anchor to this world is this shadowy wanderer.

For a while we remain silent and I enjoy it immensely. I know I will be asked many questions once we arrive at our destination and I am dreading this moment. I probably won't have a moment to myself. I will be a novelty that everyone will want to get a good look at. I will be pulled one side than the next. I won't have a moment of respite and my past will be flaunted to the world, along with any dirty laundry I may have. I won't have a private life any longer and I will forever be the girl out of this world. I will be a freak until I find a way home. I look in front of me and I am met with Aragorn's back. He still hasn't said a word since we left the riverbank this morning. I have soon learned that he is not the probing type. He doesn't ask me questions to satisfy his own curiosity, although I know he must have many.

This leaves me enough time to analyse my surroundings. I try to map out where we are going and where we have been but it is a lost cause. Without any indication as to what the geography looks like in this Middle Earth, I can't make any assumption as to where I actually am. It doesn't help that he keeps walking in zigzag; one second walking up a slope surrounded by trees heading north and the next walking on a flat dirt trail heading east.

Quickly, I turn my attention from the environment to the man before me. Everything about him suggests he is ready for long journeys. He has many layers of clothes that can protect him from pretty much any type of weather. It appears to be all made of dark wool or leather; all well-worn which reinforce the notion that he is a seasoned traveler. The cloak he lent me the night before is now rolled up and carried upon his back, next to his small bag.

As he walks, I notice all the weapons he is carrying and for a moment, I imagine him facing troll, all eight to ten feet of them. I don't know if he is any good with all this weaponry since I have never seen him fight, but his very essence screams danger. Aside, who would carry all those sharp and deadly objects if they couldn't use them properly? At least, if I wanted to pretend like I knew what I was doing, I would take a sword I could actually lift. I can only guess that the sword Aragorn has tied to his side reaches close to my height, which happens to be a little less than five feet. The blade is narrow and evidently well maintained. Why carry a sharp sword if it isn't to cut something in half?

Strapped to his back, there is a small simple wooden bow that I saw him leave with yesterday. It is probably the tool he used to kill those rabbits. It has no intricate ornament unlike his sword. Upon closer look, I see little arrows poking out of his bag. I marvel at the idea that something so small can be so deadly. Only if fired by someone who knows how to use it, of course.

To top it all off, I thing I can see a knife poking out of his left boot. This man is nothing if prepared. All in all, he is a dark, dangerous and mysterious man who just so happens to be leading me into the woods. As long as he doesn't start sprouting big hears and teeth as he roars _'the better to eat you with, my dear'_ , I think I'm good. I have a feeling that, at this point, I would follow him anywhere.

-xXx-

My lungs are on fire and my throat is dry, despite all the water I have been drinking. I am literally dragging my feet on the ground, trying to continue my advance through the woods. I'm spent. I'm not usually one to complain and ask for a breather, but today, in this moment, I am in need of a break. We have been travelling for more than an hour at a much slower pace than would have been normal for Aragorn, if he were not hindered with me. I have been doing my best to follow his long strides but my short legs are unable to keep up for much longer. It probably doesn't help that I almost died yesterday. All my limbs are screaming at me out of exertion.

"Can we stop for a minute?" I breathe out as I stumble on a tree root that is protruding from the ground, almost tumbling face down on the ground. In my peripheral vision, I see him reaching for me and in an instant his hand is around my arm, holding me up as my legs give out. "Thank you." I mumble, looking at my feet. No matter how far ahead he is, he always seems to be near enough to catch me before I fall.

"Here, sit." He motions to a boulder a little off the trail. He only lets go of my arm when I am safely situated on the rock. I close my eyes, slowly breathing through my nostril as I rest a little. Aragorn hands me his water gourd for me to drink. I take it in my shaking hands, grateful yet slightly guilty that I keep being such a nuisance to him. He doesn't say it, nor does he show that I bother him in any way, but I just feel like I am slowing him down. Without me, he probably would be more than halfway to where it is we are going. He wouldn't have to share his water with me. He wouldn't have to look over his shoulder every once in a while to see if I wasn't sprawled out on the ground.

I rub my left thigh which is cramping a little, as if I need another reason to go any slower. I groan, a little embarrassed but mostly annoyed at myself and my traitorous body. I have always been able to push through the pain and outdo myself. I am athletic, that's what athletes do. We push ourselves physically until it seems we can't go on anymore, yet we push through the pain and through the exhaustion and we perform some more against all odds. Now at the moment, I don't feel like an athlete; I'm more like an asthmatic fat kid who tried to run a marathon, or escape a zombie apocalypse.

"We do not need to hurry. We have all day, little one." Aragorn is standing next to me as he hands me an apple from a nearby tree. I gingerly take it and swallow back a retort. I want to tell him I am not normally so weak; that I may be young but I usually do not whine so much. But his eyes tell me I don't need to explain myself. He isn't rushing me and we truly have all day if need be. I quickly avert my eyes and look at the apple in my hands.

Yesterday, I would never have eaten an apple right out of a tree without washing it first at least twice. The idea of eating chemicals and pesticides repulses me. If those products are effective in killing insects, I can only imagine what it can do to my insides. Indigestion is not something I am overly fond of. But here, it is evident that no death-induced products were used. This is no orchard designed to create the most artificially perfect apples. This is unadulterated nature at its best. This, everything around me is what organic is supposed to be like. Even the air I am breathing is not hampered by pollution. Maybe the cities in Middle Earth are as clouded by smog as on Earth. For some reason, I doubt it. Everything here seems so pure. Nature is not tampered with, and it is refreshing.

I take a bite out of the apple and I feel instantly much better. I sigh in contentment, strangely at peace in this unknown place. Things seem extremely different from what I am used to, and I have a feeling I am just seeing the tip of the iceberg. How much different could our worlds be? A lot I presume, starting with its various inhabitants.

"Can you tell me more about the elves?" I turn my head up to stare at Aragorn who seems as serene as I feel at the moment, having no immediate worry.

"What do you wish to know?" One corner of his lips is creasing up.

"Everything." I exclaim. "If I am to be a guest in their home, I better know what is acceptable for me to do and the big no-nos' when it comes to etiquette."

"The big no-nos'?" He chuckles, clearly amused by my speech.

"Maybe I don't speak as _sophisticatedly_ as you do, but don't pretend you don't understand me."

"Should I just nod and smile as I sham you into believing I understand your words?"

"Ha ha! Hilarious."

"Well, I aim to be." He says with a certain finality to it before biting into his own apple. "In all seriousness though, I don't see anything you could do that would disrespect the elves of Rivendell. You need not concern yourself with etiquettes for the moment. Lord Elrond will welcome and help you, no matter what you do or say."

"Really? Should I bow or curtsy or something?"

"You will not be in the presence of royalty, so there is no need for such theatrics, little one." He is scratching the back of his neck, his eyes never leaving his apple as he stares at it intently.

"But, my host is a lord. You just said so yourself."

"Yes, a very humble lord. Normally, we simply bow a little our head in acknowledgment to him, respecting him for who he is, not his titles; exactly as we would any other elf." He turns to me slightly as he bows his head a little, a hand on his chest, showing me the proper way to greet an elf. "But truly, you don't need to. Men don't do this sort of greeting."

"But you do."

He absently nods, his eyes glazed by a strong emotion it takes me a moment to recognize as sorrow. "My-" he clears his throat, his assured stance faltering a little. "My mother brought me to Rivendell when I was but two years of age. I was raised by elves, mainly Lord Elrond. I may not be an elf but my entire upbringing has been centered on their customs." The turn of the conversation seems to have become sour in a matter of seconds.

I eye him curiously, but I don't say anything. He has granted me the privilege to divulge what I want from my life on my own terms. I will do the same for him. If he wants to tell me, I will listen. Until then, I will try to range in my curiosity and let him be. I swiftly turn the conversation back on track.

"Which reminds me; what distinguishes an elf from a man? I mean, you said they were tall, but so are you." He smiles and I know he is grateful I have not questioned him on his sudden sadness.

"I can't really explain elves and their origin, not in so little time. It is somewhat complex and it will probably only confuse you more than you already are. Elves are, in general, taller than most men. Some are fair while others have darker features, just as men do. Physically, the main apparent difference is their ears."

"They are pointed, aren't they?" I ask, slightly giddy at the idea that there truly are other sentient beings than humans in this world, goblins and trolls included, although those two scare me.

He seems somewhat surprised at my input. "Yes, they are. How do you know, if elves do not exist in your world?"

"They are fictional. In our folklore, there are many different types of creatures that we commonly call elves. They are not real but they all have these very iconic pointy ears."

He shifts his head to the side in silent acknowledgement. "Are they also immortals?"

"Immortal?" My eyes budge at the simple idea of never dying and everlasting life.

"Yes. There are only two ways an elf can die. They can be slain in battle," he lifts his index to indicate number one.

"Yes, well being eviscerated tends to do that to a person." I shutter as I remember a very gruesome movie I saw not so long ago with a friend. I couldn't eat what was left of my popcorn after that scene.

Aragorn chuckles at my dark humour. "They can also die of a broken heart." He lifts his middle finger, displaying the second reason.

"Like a heart attack?"

"Euh, I think not." Obviously he has no idea what a heart attack is. "It is more that they have lost their will to live, because the one they loved is no longer part of this world."

I look at him for a moment, registering what he has said. "Oh my god, that is so romantic! The idea that they would rather die than to live one more moment without the other... it's every girl's dream."

"It is very tragic truly. It is not that they would prefer to die, little one. They simply cannot live apart. When two elves marry, they become one for eternity. Their souls bind together to form only one. If one dies, the other will fade into nonexistence until their inevitable death. As soon as an elf acknowledges their feelings, they are-"

"Doomed?" I quirk an eyebrow. I'm frozen at this piece of information. Said like this, it _is_ rather tragic indeed. How could they do it? Marrying, knowing someday you may meet your impending doom because of the death of someone else. Or worst, to cause this kind pain to the one you love, resulting in him dying.

"How do they do it?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

"It is not as terrible as it sounds. They may cease to exist in Middle Earth but two elves will meet again in the Undying Lands, along with all other elves who have made the journey to Valinor, either through death or willingly by the sea when they felt their time had come to leave Middle Earth."

"Like heaven?" He eyes me strangely and I know he is as confused as I am at the moment. "It is where my people supposedly go when we die. Assuming we've been good and abided to our God's rules throughout our life. If not, we go to Hell and burn for all eternity and some more."

"Oh."

"But these are just supposition. We have many religions in my world and none are founded, or proven. This has actually caused many wars throughout history."

He still eyes me strangely, probably thinking my world is completely mental. I think the majority of people back home are pretty stupid too, but it's still home. It's where I belong and it's a world I was so suddenly taken from, for no apparent reason.

"Are you ready to walk for a while, little one?" Aragorn's voice startles me a little as I realise I was in my own thoughts for a moment.

I nod before standing up and waving in front of me, a clear sign that means 'lead the way'. Because let's be real; I have no clue where we are going.

-xXx-

We have now been walking for almost two hours since our last stop, which means we are a little further than halfway to Rivendell, this elven city where I may or may not find an explanation to my newfound situation. I don't know much about where we are going but from the little description Aragorn has given me, it sounds absolutely magnificent: halfway between nature and an urban environment. I stopped asking him so many questions after he told me I would understand once I see it. Apparently, everything elf related is a must see because of their uniqueness and grandeur.

Aragorn has been leading me across the woods with ease. He never stops to wonder if he should change direction. How he knows where to go and when to turn, I don't know. All those trees look the same to me. But then again if he was raised in these parts, and he has been travelling a lot like I assume he has by his looks, he probably knows the area like the back of his hand.

We have been chatting a little, mostly about Earth. I don't know if he is asking as someone who is naturally curious or as someone suspicious who is sizing up a potential opponent. He keeps sending my way little glances that feel strangely like he is analysing me. It is clear that he wonders why I was brought here. The question I know he keeps from asking or voicing out is probably the scariest of all. The why matters, greatly. But more importantly: by whom? Who, in this god forsaken world, or mine, would want me here, at this time? For what purpose? What does it matter if little Maeve Kai marches through some woods heading to Rivendell? Maybe it doesn't. But if it does, whom would it benefit?

I don't want to linger on the why and who too much. All I want is to journey back. Once home, those questions won't matter. All of this will be but a distant memory.

"Keep up, little one. There is nice resting place a couple of paces ahead."

"How old are you anyway, old man?" I ask him, slightly annoyed that he keeps calling me _little one_. I know he is much older than me, and a lot taller than I am, but why does he feel the need to reinforce that at every turn?

"How old do you think I am?" He smirks, seeming not at all offended by my question.

"Well, you look as old as my dad. So... forty or something?"

He chuckles, clearly amused by my reasoning. He pushes away the greenery that is blocking our course. He allows me to pass without having to wrestling my way through the branches. As I walk past him, I hear him say rather cryptically. "Or something."

"What does that even mean?" I laugh at his evasiveness. And here I thought women were the ones susceptible to age. He smiles and continues on walking. All I can do is stand on my own two feet as I gape at him. "You are seriously not going to tell me?" I screech rather loudly.

Suddenly, Aragorn sweeps around and literally tackles me to the ground. I yelp in protest but he ushers me quickly. I narrow my eyes at him, a second away from demanding what his problem is when I hear a loud growl that is clearly not emitted by the man on top of me. My eyes bulge as I realise Aragorn may yet have saved my life once more. He rolls slightly on the side as he motions for me to stay low. I nod and peak up a little to see the creature we are hiding from.

It is enormous, massive and covered in a black fur. It growls and breathes loudly as it stands on its back legs. Its yellow eyes are glaring intently at where we are lying. It knows where we are, that much is evident. Will it see us as a threat, I hope not. We are literally sprawled on the ground on our stomach. You can't get any more inoffensive. That thing could kill me in an instant if it wanted so. Adrenaline is rushing through me; chemicals that are telling me I could bolt and make a run for it. But I'm not stupid despite what my body is telling me. I could never outrun it, not with it being four times my size.

Then my head turn to my left when I hear noises coming from farther away. I stare back at the beast in front of us only to see that its attention is momentarily taken away from Aragorn and I. That is when I realise that this thing is not alone. Its eyes are once more back on us for a moment. Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, it lands on all its legs and runs away. I groan in relief and lay my head on my forearm when it is clear we are safe. Thanks to Aragorn, who had amazing reflexes and nice survival instincts, I will live to see another day. Again.

"What was that?" I whisper, not taking any chances in case it decided to come back for us because it thought we would make a good sandwich in the end.

"It was a bear. A mother with her cubs." Aragorn says as he sits back on his heels, readjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulders.

"That was a bear?" He nods slightly. "It was gigantic, that's what it was. Why is everything so out of proportion here?" I clearly referred to his high stature as well as what they call a bear in these parts.

"She was normal size, little one. You sound surprised. Do you not have bears where you are from?"

"Yes, we do but they are in captivity for the most part, and much smaller."

"Captivity?" I glance at Aragorn and I see he has that same look on his face he had when I spoke of grocery stores. It's as if he doesn't understand why _captivity_ and _bear_ could be in a same sentence.

"Yes. Wild animals are put in a zoo, where they are on display for people to see. We pay to see them because otherwise, we wouldn't."

"Why? You just need to go outside and look for a little while and chances are you will encounter one."

I sigh, exhausted by both the events that just took place and the simple fact that I have to explain everything as if I were talking to a five year old. I know it's not his fault and that I am probably worst with my pestering questions about elves. I just wish our worlds weren't so different that he couldn't really comprehend the simplest things like a zoo. "Not where I'm from. We don't have bears roaming around free in the cities."

"I understand that cities are guarded and safe, but what about when you leave your cities."

"We don't have much wilderness where I'm from, and most of us tend to live in those cities where the chances of getting mauled by an animal are slim to none." It's hard to explain a world he has never seen. And I realise he is right when he says everything about _this_ world will make so much more sense when a map is available to us.

"Everybody live in cities?"

"Well, no, not everybody but most everybody. Personally, I never left the city. Never had a reason to."

That seems to put an end to all his questions. Aragorn, no matter what his age truly is, clearly has seen much of the world he lives in whereas I don't know anything other than the ten blocks perimeter to my house. This is the longest I have ever been away from home. It is also the scariest moment of my life. Everything is different here. I don't know how I will manage to survive long enough to get back home. Then again, Aragorn seems to have it all sorted, my safety included.

He hands me his water flask with a shrug and I can't help myself but snort. "I thought there was a nice resting spot just ahead."

He chuckles. "Well, since we are already sitting."

* * *

 **So? What did you think? There is one thing I can promise with an absolute certainty... Rivendell is next! I am looking forward to "rewriting" what I had done because let's face it... the reveal of Rivendell in both the books and movies is just awesome. I will try to depict all that Maeve is seeing and feeling as I have the first time I saw the Fellowship of the Rings. It may seem a little hard since I saw it in theaters for the first time almost 15 years ago, but I still remember everything. It got me hooked, so bad. As they say, the rest is history. Lord of the Rings has been my favourite movie ever since... right up there with the Lion King.**

 **To those who may or may not wonder which movie/book is my favourite, I only have one answer: How can you choose? It's one story. It is a whole that you cannot separate. It's not like Harry Potter that have, one main plot which consists of defeated Voldemort but, at the same time, all 7 books have very different storylines and adventures that all have a beginning, a middle and an end. You can read/watch one and feel satisfied at the end because it feels somewhat finished (except for the last two movies). The Lord of the Rings is not like that. The beginning is the fellowship of the Rings, the middle is The Two Towers and the end is The Return of the King. You cannot possibly decide to read/watch one without the others. It's one bigass book, split into three for marketing reasons. So... yeah. By the way, I love Harry Potter. It was just the easiest example around, so don't hate on me.**

 **xx**

 **Please, keep me posted on what you liked about this chapter and REVIEW :D  
**

 **Until my next update, which hopefully won't take so long.**


	5. Flabbergasted

_**So I lied. This isn't the chapter where we get to see Rivendell in its entirety. This isn't even a very long chapter, especially considering the amount of time it has been since my last update. But I'm having a hard time with school; I am basically reconsidering all the choices I have made in my life so far. This being said, there is nothing I hate more than writers promising they will update soon and then having to wait an eternity for them to do so. So... I won't promise an update when I don't know when I will be able to write some more or when I will find the time to update anything. I promise to stop making promises I can't keep. This chapter was supposed to be so much longer and more detailed, but I decided to give you something instead of making you all wait indefinitely.**_

 _ **I apologize in advance for all the mistakes there are in this chapter. I haven't double checked it for the simple reason I don't have the time - or rather haven't had the time for weeks. Let's just say, university is a pain in my ass.**_

 _ **Thank you for all of you who added this story to their favorites despite it being fairly new and far from perfect. Thank you to those who are following this little story that is slowly but surely growing before my very eyes, and yours. I have so many ideas that keep flashing before me - but they are so far down the line that I have to beg you all to be patient and allow this story to run its course gradually. Finally, thank you for your reviews; it may appear silly to some, but reviews are what keeps me going mostly. Without them, a writer doesn't know how his story is perceived. Don't be shy to review, in good or bad. I am not above critics, only if they remain respectful.**_

 _ **Like I said, I'm aware that this chapter is far from being remotely ready; but I didn't want to keep you hanging any longer. I will probably edit it soon, but if you see anything that reads absolutely horrifyingly... do tell me, I will try to change it as soon as possible.**_

 _ **Again. I am sorry, but I hope you enjoy this nonetheless.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Flabbergasted**

"Are we there yet?" I realise I am whining, but this whole journey has been extremely hard on me. I am just about ready to drop dead on the ground and sleep for an eternity. There is not a single muscle in my body that is not aching to the point of agony. Yet I persist in moving forward, for where we are going, things seem to be a little greener. Or so Aragorn tells me. I am also continuously encouraged by my guide – whom, by the way, has been a real champ about this whole situation; with me being practically a dead weight.

I have learned that Aragorn is a true believer in the idea of leaving no man behind. He has agreed to stop every time I have requested a rest; he has shared his canteen of water with me, keeping only the bare minimum for himself; on one occasion, he has even carried me up a steep cliff when it was abundantly clear that I was never going to make it up on my own. Yes, the old man gave me a piggyback ride up a ravine without breaking a sweat. How embarrassing. I have found myself on his back, my arms around his shoulders as I held on for dear life. Needless to say, I could have been flaying my arms around trying to fly away and I would not have been anywhere near falling down. Aragorn had a firm grip of my legs; he was not dropping me anytime soon.

The whole way up, I was continuously apologizing on behalf of my weak little body that had put us in this position. He was, after all graciously giving me a lift up the cliff of death. But in order to make the climb safely, Aragorn had to hand me over his bag and some of his arsenals. I couldn't possibly grab onto him when between the two of us there was a quiver filled with arrows that could potentially poke my eyes out if I tilted my head forward a bit too much; which is how I found myself on his back, with his possessions on mine.

Aragorn being Aragorn, continuously reassured me the whole way up that I had just been on the brink of death, and that I should not let my incapacity of putting a foot before the other bother me so much. Then, in a single moment he managed to erase my smile of gratitude when he added "unless this predicament is not temporary and you have always had a nick for testing gravity".

My clever response was: "you seem to forget, old man, that I am currently the one with a bow and arrows strapped to my back".

He simply laughed with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. "I would tremble with fear, little one, if only you knew how to use them."

I glared at the back of his head as I slightly tightened my arms around his shoulders, bringing them slowly toward his neck. "I could always choke you."

"And I could simply drop you." He glanced back over his right shoulder to look at me and I saw his eyes glimmering with mirth.

This was our whole relationship in a nutshell. None of the threats we made had any truth to them, and we both knew it. I would never come close to strangling him just as I am sure he would never dump my ass down a chasm. If anything, our bickering made everything so much more bearable. He was keeping me from wallowing too much on the severity of my situation. He was, yet again, protecting me from anything that could distress or harm me, myself and my thoughts included. And in that moment, I accepted it. I didn't want to think about any of it. I pushed my current situation into the back row of my mind until I wouldn't be able to ignore it anymore. I appreciated the escape from reality that Aragorn was so freely offering me. He seemed to know what I needed before I even knew myself. There was no point in worrying... yet.

In a moment of spontaneous vulnerability, I squeezed him around his shoulders, an action immensely different from my little show earlier. This wasn't a warning that I could choke the life out of him if I ever got the urge to. Far from it. And he knew it; I could feel it when his stance faltered a little. As I hugged him, he simply patted my left forearm with his right hand, his own silent way of telling me not to worry. He then continued his ascent as if nothing happened, until we reached the top minutes later.

He gently set me down on the plateau and let me get my bearing before taking his bag and bow back. He chugged a good mouthful of water, nodded at me to make sure I was ready, then turned left and continued on walking.

That was about an hour ago. I am now sitting against a bed of rocks inside a crevasse and I have been pestering Aragorn with my repetitive question for nearly as long. His answer has always been "nearly". I am beginning to question his definition of that word because I am at a breaking point. But as I sit my back to the rocky wall, canteen in hand, I ask him one more time for good measure.

"Are we there yet?"

Aragorn smirks and points his finger toward a sharp turn in the rocks that turns into a passageway in a wall of stone. "Just over this rise, there is a promontory that overlooks the valley." He then turns to me and grins in such a way, I know he is as anguished to reach the city as I am. "We are nearly there."

"So you've been saying." I grumble as I push myself up. I hand him his canteen back that he rapidly puts away before making his way up.

The terrain is dangerous; rocks are dislodging themselves from the escarpment as I step on them, almost toppling over as I lose my balance. Yet again, Aragorn is there to save the day. He keeps his firm hand on my left arm, preventing me from slitting my head open on a sharp edge of stone at the same time as dragging me up when I cannot seem to lift my legs high enough to reach the next level in our climb. All in all, this is nowhere near as difficult as when Aragorn carried me up the steep cliff, and we soon reach the top. My legs however, are a hair away from giving up on me.

I crouch a little, hands on my knees as I try to catch my breath. Aragorn is walking away from me, toward the mouth of the mountain. I turn my head to the side, following him with my eyes as we steps further away from me. He is engulfed in light and soon I see only his silhouette. I groan, straighten myself and start wobbling towards the breach in the wall. My right hand is on the facade next to me, supporting the weight my legs can no longer bear. I almost bump into Aragorn having not noticed he had stopped advancing. He turns around and I see a huge smile adorning his face.

"What?" I raise an eyebrow.

He makes a circular sweeping motion with his arm, inviting me to look around him. "Welcome to Rivendell, little one."

As I let my eyes wander behind him, I see it.

There are no words magnificent enough to describe what my eyes are seeing. I am not even sure my brain is working right because what my retinas are registering cannot possibly be real. At the same time, I am not imaginative enough to be able to conjure such thing on my own.

The view is so different from what I am used to see. I am looking over at a city so fundamentally different from my home. There are no skyscrapers that breach through the smog hovering the city. There are no cars honking at an old man with his walker nearby a rattling train filled with hurried business men in suits. There are no cemented paths at the bottom of concrete corded towers. This is peaceful, natural. None of this is dull and the color grey is practically absent.

Everything down here seems filled with life. The city swirls its way through the vast wilderness, existing alongside it, not in its place. The city and its surroundings make one, an image as strange to me as it is beautiful. The buildings spring out of the trees and is cornered by a waterfall that makes its bed in a river surrounding the city. It is bathing in the rays of sunshine. I dare say, I have never seen anything so majestic before in my short life.

I must have been gawking for a long time because I hear Aragorn chuckling next to me. "Impressive, is it not?"

"That's a word for it." I snort, my eyes still glued to the scenery in front of me.

"Come, we are nearly there. Truly, this time."

"We have to do more walking?"

"We make our way downhill now. You simply need to let your legs carry you to the warm cozy bed that awaits you."

At the mention of a bed, my body seems to have a little burst in energy. "Lead the way, old man."

Aragorn turns right and starts making his way downhill. I let my eyes wander to the elven city one more time before I start stumbling after my guide. The path we are following is carved on the mountain side and is leading us slowly to Rivendell. There are isolated trees growing through the rocky terrain and rapidly, as we make our way down, the wood grows denser. Elves sure do love their trees. The rumbling of the water spilling down from the mountain top is getting louder and louder as we walk closer to the city.

Soon, we emerge from the trees right next to a large waterfall that is almost raining on us. We follow the path and ahead of us there is a bridge crossing the water unto a circular platform. In that moment, when I realise how close I actually am to the city, I panic. All thoughts of the future come crashing down on me, freezing me on my spot.

What will happen to me? Once I step onto that platform – which is clearly the entryway to Rivendell – there is no absolute guaranty that I will be welcomed there, no matter how adamant Aragorn is of that fact. I could be dismissed as easily as I was thrown into this world. Worse, those elves could use me as a science experiment. Yet, somehow, I doubt that Aragorn would let any of that happen. I don't know why I am so certain of this, nor I am stupid enough to trust just any stranger so easily; but the fact of the matter is, I do. I trust him completely. I would lay down my fate in his arms and trust that I would come out unscathed. He gives off this vibe that clearly says he could be your worst enemy and he could kill you in an instant if need be. But to me, he chose to be a friend, my only friend truly in this world. Yet, I cannot bring myself to take another step further toward this unknown city.

"Maeve?" I focus my gaze on his blue eyes. Aragorn is kneeling before me, bringing him approximately to my level. He stares into my own eyes, his worry clear on his face. I feel his eyes searching my very soul for an answer to his quiet question. I quickly lower my gaze.

"What will happen to me?" I mumble, my voice barely above a whisper. Yet, he hears me perfectly.

"Little one, look at me." He doesn't continue until my gaze meets his through watery eyes. "I promise you this, I will help you get home, if it is the last thing I do."

My lips tremble a little. And he simply smiles. He doesn't tell me that I shouldn't cry. Heck he doesn't even judge me. He just smiles. I raise my arms and literally fling myself into his arms, taking him by surprise. It is the second time today I have hugged him. I don't know if it alright for me to hug grown men in this world, but I guess it is since he is not pushing me away or reprimanding me. He simply hugs me back gently, an arm around me and a hand behind my head. My eyes are closed and this little hug is enough to help me gather the little remnant of courage I have left.

I sniff a little, braze my hands on his shoulder and slowly pull away from him. I whip away my tears, take a deep and open my eyes, finally ready to face reality. His smile widens as he stands up, towering over me. He slowly backs away from me and makes sure I am following him before turning around on his heels.

A few steps later, we are in front of the bridge. I see two other paths leading away from it through the woods; probably other ways in and out of the city. I hear boots connecting with a rocking ground and look to my right to see Aragorn is crossing the bridge. I hurry after him to this rather simple path that has absolutely no railing. I look down as I reach the edge and gulp as I realise how far down the agitated river is.

"You will not fall if only you can walk straight in the middle." I look up to glare at Aragorn who is standing on the other side of the bridge only to stop short when I see he is not the only one waiting for me.

There, right next to Aragorn, is a creature I know does not belong to the race of men. He is as imposing as Aragorn is, only slightly shorter. He radiates with grace even though I have yet to see him move. He appears to be glowing, as if he is made of his own internal sun which is trying to pore its way out off him through his skin. I am transfixed, glued to my spot as I admire him.

"Little one," Aragorn's call brings me out of my reverie. I look to him, silently asking him if I am dreaming. The right corner of his lips pulls up as he motions for me to cross the bridge. I glance to his left to the still unmoving figure. I know what he is. I have known the instant I laid eyes on him. I now understand what Aragorn meant before in the woods: Trust me. You will know an elf when you see one. No shit! There is nothing human or remotely mortal about this perfect being.

I cross my arms around my torso, trying to keep my heart from escaping through my thoracic cage. I feel completely unworthy of being in his presence. Somehow, I slowly make my way across the bridge, bringing me closer to the elf. I feel his gaze burning into me as his eyes follow me. I can't help myself, and look back up to him. I don't know if I should keep my eyes lowered or if I should refrain myself from staring too hard, but I have never seen something as magical as him. This place, this Rivendell, is nothing compared to the majestic essence of what I presume all elves possess.

He has yet to move anything other than his eyes, which I see clearly now. They reflect knowledge and an awareness I can't quite understand. They shine as if stars were imbedded into them, each a remembrance of the ages of men he must have lived through. In spite of his youthful appearance, I know he is old; probably older than I can imagine someone to be. After all, as Aragorn said, elves are immortal. Immortal and obviously outrageously beautiful. How unfair.

I finally reach the other side of the bridge, and am now standing right next to Aragorn. The elf takes a step forward and it is as if he is floating. Everything about him screams surreal, from his floor length robe to his ears peeking out from his long glistering hair crowned by silver jewels. I feel a hand on my shoulder and distractedly look over my shoulder to Aragorn.

"Allow me to introduce to you Lord Elrond, ruler of Rivendell." The elf extends and arm to his chest and lowers slightly his head before straightening up. He is greeting me as any elf would, just as Aragorn showed me before.

"Welcome to Rivendell, young one." For an instant, I can't believe this ancient perfect being is actually talking to me. I am rooted on my spot, my brain turned into jell-o.

I don't know how to respond. Everything I could ever do would pale in comparison to him. So I mumble the first thing that pops in my head. "Hi."

Of course, that was a stupid thing to say. I should have curtsied, no matter what Aragorn said earlier because there is no way this Lord Elrond was created to walk on the same level as we mere mortals, more specifically me. I should have said something more elegant. Yet, he smiles at me, not only with his mouth, but with his eyes also. For a fleeting moment, I forget all the troubles I have been through recently. All my worries vanish. I feel like maybe, just maybe, everything will be alright.

"Come. You have journeyed far. You will rest tonight and in the morning, all your questions shall be answered." He extends an arm towards me and the other to the stairs leading straight into his city. I am having a hard time believing this elf is willingly inviting me into his grandiose home without questioning me. I could be a mass murderer for all he knows. But then again, Aragorn brought me here. From what he has told me, he was raised in this city. Lord Elrond must trust Aragorn's judgement on some level. And since Aragorn doesn't see me as a potential danger, then I guess this Lord Elrond is ready to extend the same courtesy.

This elven ruler is waiting for me to move, his arms still stretch outwards. I stare at him for a moment before taking a step slowly towards the marbled stairs.

* * *

 _ **Do tell me what you thought. It might give me incentive to write faster, despite my upcoming midterms :P**_


	6. Waking up in Rivendell

**Well happy holidays. I wish you all a Merry Christmas. Or Hanukkah. Or a merry Nothing if you don't celebrate anything in December. But, a very Happy New Year to all. Because that is something that I am pretty sure everybody celebrates... everyone that follows the Gregorian calendar that is. Damn.**

 **I know it has been a long time since my last update, and I want to thank you all for being patient and sticking with me on this story. It was the end of my semester and I was having a hard time trying to pass a class I had already failed. I can't promise I will update anytime soon because I start school again in less than a week and I am busy seeing family and friends. I mean I do have a tiny social life, no matter how awkward it is.**

 **Thank you to my amazing 35 followers and 23 people who thought this story deserved a favorite. It means the world. I know I already said all this before in previous chapters, but this truly means the world. Without you, I would give up on this story and just keep it for myself. I would see it as a film in my mind without putting any effort in trying to convey it through words. So again, a big thanks to all of you. I also appreciate the reviews. I mean everybody does. It is so precious to me that I want to thank the time to respond to you. It's the least I can do.**

 **Guest :** Well… Guest… I thank you for thanking me for writing such an amazing story. (Your words, not mine) I will try to keep the quality of my story as high as possible and entertain you.

 **Usedmemories :** I am so thrilled you consider this a good Aragorn/OC story. I know I have tried for so long to find a story with Aragorn as a main protagonist where I could actually fall in love with him as I have in Tolkien's work and in the movies. But it is hard, almost impossible. That is mainly the reason why I started writing this fanfiction. I want to write a story about him, where we can relate to him. And I have this story all mapped out in my head. I just need to put it black on white. I don't plan on abandoning, but you will all need to exert patience, for my sake and yours. Thank you for reading and I hope you like this chapter.

 **ReadsToMuchALot :** Well, I am to please. I am *fangirl screaming* right now at the thought that someone could love my story as much as you seem to. I apologize that you had to wait so long for a follow up but I do hope that you will find it in you to love this next chapter.

 **Katherine Sparrow :** I do try to make as little mistakes as possible. Of course, some are bound to slip up and make their way into the final cut, per say. Thank you for liking Maeve. It would be terrible if my main character was disliked. And I try to make justice to the Aragorn we all loved on screen and on paper. Tolkien made perfection and Viggo Mortensen made a marvelous job at representing it. A perfect duo. I'm simply trying to follow such a perfect act. And it is nice to know you think that Maeve seems "real". There is nothing I hate more in story/books than when I can't relate to a character because they seem so unrealistically perfect or just fake.

 **Reader1 :** Who in their right mind would not be a little intimidated by Elrond? I promise we will see a lot more of him in future chapters. This was just a glance. Thanks for your wishes of good luck. It served me well apparently.

 **Reader 1 :** (ps: I don't know if you are the same Reader 1 as the previous one) I am not telling you Aragorn's age or how close to the war this story takes place just yet because you will learn those things in due time. Actually, in the next chapter many things will be revealed. But I can say... you are perceptive. He is not as grim as he is at the beginning of the fellowship of the rings, and that is for a reason. I'm going to leave it at that.

 **jshaw0624 :** It's amazing that you have missed a story that is only at its beginning. I have many things planned for our two main characters. I love when my readers are as invested in my characters as I am. (I know Aragorn is not mine, but right now, in this story, he is my puppet. He does what I want him to do.) Anyways, you missing this craziness that is my imagination... it's driving me to write more, to give more of myself to this story because it means I am doing something right. Thanks, I need those reassurance from time to time.

 **Guest :** I don't have much to say other than here is an Update. Have fun with it. Another one may come soon-ish :D

 **God's Little Hope :** I like how I portray my Aragorn as well. He is a very complex character filled with many layers of goodness. He is fundamentally good indeed, but as you said it, he can be grim, thoughtful, kind, sweet... name it, he probably is. Anyways, I think you will come to love this Aragorn. And I can only hope that with time you will come to appreciate Maeve for who she is, no matter how not perfect and not Mary Sue-ish she is. Well, I hope she's not a Mary Sue. Please tell me if she is and I will rectify that pronto.

 **Sousie:** "Great story" you say... You're a great person, an amazing person even. Here, have this candy-like update.

 **So thank you to all my _reviewers_ , _followers_ , _favouriters_? How about _likers_? I can't possibly say _lovers_ , that's just wrong. I love you all, I do... but nope. I am no polygamist. You can now go bleach your brain if you want. I wouldn't hold it against you.**

 **On that note, I do hope you all enjoy this new chapter. Review if you have the time.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Waking up in Rivendell**

I wake to the sound of birds chirping. I turn on my side and clutch the pillow to my chest as I hum out in peace. This is the best night's sleep I have ever had in my entire life. I don't remember having a particular dream other than grazing there on green pastures looking up at clouds as they turned from fluffy bunnies to fire breathing dragons. There was no passing of time, nor was there anything of consequence happening. As far as I could remember, for the first time, I had no obligation, no school to get to or practice to rush to in between chores. I could do as I pleased, even if that meant laying there staring at clouds for any number of time. I was unrestrained; I was free.

I _felt_ free.

I rub my face up and down the silky pillowcase, about ready to go back to sleep and continue this little fantasy of mine. The dream is so simple, yet I know it to be a reflection of my very own repressed desires: having no care in the world as to where I should be or what I should be doing – literally having nothing better to do than gazing at the sky. That's what I want. For once in my life, I want to be lazy. Right now, all I care about is that my head is resting on a pillow that feels like heaven and smell like fresh autumn's air. I sigh after taking another whiff, never opening my eyes, prolonging the make belief for as long as I can. Because, I know what I will find when I do open them: A grand bedroom circled by great walls with arches leading onto a balcony overlooking a waterfall. As magnificent as the view may be, it is not enough to get me to rise up. I would like to remain as I am, unaware of the world around me, and more importantly unbothered by it. I am not ready to step into reality just yet.

But of course, life disagrees. Someone is knocking at my door. I groan as I flop on my back bringing my arm over my face. Apart from that, I remain quiet, silently hoping that the person on the other side of my room suddenly forgets all about me and has the insight to leave me alone. I lower my arm back to my side and open my eyes. I stare at the ceiling as I listen carefully for any sign of what my peace intruder is doing. Are they still behind my door, or have they walked away yet. When I hear nothing after a while, I smile figuring they had left. I close my eyes again and curl back into the bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. I can still fall right back asleep. But no such luck there; they knock once again. I groan rather loudly, half hoping my unpleasant alarm clock will hear me.

I stop myself just in time before growling a very impolite 'what'. I am after all a guest in an unknown world. It would be best to try and make friends instead of cursing at them. This is why as a response to my wakeup call I opt for a very diplomatic "yes?"

The door slides open without so much as a sound and in glides the same female elf who walked me to this very room last evening. She had left me standing next to the bed with a promise to come back swiftly as soon as she found a more appropriate attire for me to wear and show me to the bathroom – or the bathing quarters as they call it here. The moment she walked out of the room, I discarded Aragorn's clothes which had become rather fitly with all the tumbling through the woods I had been doing. I pulled on a long robe that was resting on a nearby chair and tied it at my waist. I took the dirty garments gathered on the floor and put them in a pile on a small table, feeling slightly cleaner already. I then walked around the room and gaped at the beauty of it. My gaze didn't wander long before it turned its focus on the massive bed. Three grown men could fit in it and not even touch. It looked so soft and mellow. It didn't take long for me to run and plunge right into the bed. I moaned at how comfortable I was at the moment, a real smile etching its way onto my face. I was running my hands on the silk sheets and my head soon found its way to the pillows.

I never heard the woman/elf walk back into the room. I must have had fallen asleep back then, exhausted as I was. She probably saw me drooling and figured she could let me sleep. Good thinking on her part. But she should have delayed her return until this afternoon.

"Good morning, my lady." She bows slightly her head before looking up at me with the brightest of smiles. I have nothing against her personally, but does she have to be so chipper in the morning? I force myself to pull my lips into what I think resembles a smile. I hope I don't look half as horrendous as I feel. I still haven't had my bath, and I'm not a morning person. "I hope you slept well."

I nod as I wave my hand around, silently conveying I am not certain I am completely awake yet. I slowly sit up and pull my legs to the side of the bed. I groan as I rub my face with my palms before brushing my hands through my hair. I hear her giggle at my theatrics and I can't believe how ridiculously beautiful that sound feels to my ears. I raise my eyes to look at her, this elf who for the life of me I cannot remember her name, and I am consumed by jealousy. She is just so perfect, and obviously everything I am not.

She is as tall as she is svelte. There is not an ounce of fat on her body, no trace of age or sickness. There's not even a little scar marking her skin. It's stupidly perfect. The thing I most envy about her though is her hair, as cumbrous as it may be. It reaches midway through her back in wavy chestnut locks. I wouldn't know what to do with so much hair, but she makes it look so beautiful. She is wearing a dress that is singed just below her bust. The straight neckline gives way to flowing sleeves that are as wide as they are large. Add to this the floor length skirt and you have me puzzled. I don't know how she manages to walk around without fumbling with all this lustrous yellow fabric. To me, it seems a little overboard, but I have seen the way Lord Elrond was dressed yesterday. Elves do seem to love their extravagance.

Urgh, how can one race be so freaking perfect? How unfair to us puny mortals!

"Are you well, my lady?" I must have grumbled out loud because she is eyeing me carefully.

"Yes, I'm perfect-" I close my eyes, trying to remember her name in vain. "I'm sorry, I don't want to sound ungrateful or conceited or just stupid but I can't remember your name."

I thought she was going to be affronted that I couldn't remember the name of the one person I have met yesterday aside from Lord Elrond but here she is, smiling like nothing could knock that grin off her face. "Gelinnassien."

Well no wonder I couldn't remember her name. Aragorn, as strange as his name sounds to me is pronounceable. Elrond is only two syllables so I can manage. But this, this was gibberish on a whole new level. I must have pulled a face that clearly showed how painful I think her name is because she is laughing softly. Instead of being insulted as any normal person would, she simply repeats her name slowly, pulling each syllable apart. "Gay-leen-ah-see-n".

After a couple of attempts at trying to say her name without completely butchering it, I exclaim "Can't I just call you Linn? It would be so much easier for me and far less offensive for you."

The elf looks at me unsure as to what she should say. I don't think anyone has ever asked her to shorten her name to one syllable because they couldn't pronounce it right. After a moment, she nods her head slowly. "If it would help you, my lady."

"It would. And can we stop with the _lady_ crap?" I say rather bluntly. Her eyes widen and I realise I could have spoken my thoughts less forcefully. "I mean, where I am from, I'm no lady."

"But-"

"I don't deserve to be called a lady." I scuff. "I curse like a sailor, I don't wear dresses and... I'm just not-" I wave my hand in front of me, expressly motioning to all of Linn who is standing right before me.

"How would you like me to address you then?" She is so polite, it is unnerving.

"How about my name? May, or Maeve?"

She seems to hesitate for a moment before she smiles at me with that beautiful smile. "If it would please you, miss Maeve."

I sigh realising I have just traded in an old title for a new one. Why are these people so formal all the time? I dare say I even miss being called ' _little one'._ How aberrant. I have a name. It is there so people can call me by that name. I look into her blue eyes before rolling my own. Here I am complaining because the people in Rivendell are too polite. I could have landed in a world where people lacked all manners and were cruel beyond repair. What have I to whine about? Everything could be far worse.

"Linn?" The elf smiles in acknowledgement. "Can you show me where I can take a bath?"

She giggles "I would have brought you there yesterday, but you seemed so peaceful curled up in that bed. I did not have the heart to wake you."

"I appreciate that." I snort as she turns around and walks to a dresser upon which lays a pile of clothes. She must have left them there last evening when she came back for me. She then slides to the door to escort me to the bathing quarters.

I quickly follow her and make my way out of my room. I almost skip after her, because she is a little faster than I am, but also for the simple reason that I feel so light. It doesn't take us long to get to the baths. After a turn there and there, she opens a door and motions for me to step into the room.

I don't know much about Elves, but what I do know is they don't do anything halfway; from making absolutely perfect progeny to building bathrooms as if they were the next best world monument. The room I am in seems to be built around a natural water source that finds its origin in the waterfall. The waterfall enters from a circular hole in the ceiling. The water then divides itself into several ponds that create the many baths. The excess water then flows through small twisting canals only to spill out of the room into the great outdoors in their own filament-like waterfalls, creating in their way slight rainbows. It's magical, and it's only the bathroom. I can't imagine what other wonders I will find during my stay here in Rivendell.

In my admiration of the room, I notice that the baths are vacant – something I am thanking the big guy upstairs for. I am no prude or anything, but cleaning myself in front of a bunch of absolute strangers is not something I desperately want to happen in my life. I reach one pond and dip my toe in the warm water. Oh, this is going to be amazing.

I turn around to look at my guide who is right behind me. "Thank you Linn."

"Do you require any assistance, miss Maeve?"

"Assistance with what?" Linn doesn't answer; she simply arches her perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Linn, I'm a big girl. I can bathe on my own, you know."

She nods before turning away. I clutch the ties that keep my robe in place. I am about to loosen it so I can discard my garments when I see Linn is not exiting the room. She stops right next to the door, bends down and grabs a basket. Then she turns around and walks right back to me. She hands me what she is holding in her hands. I pick it up and look inside. I roll my eyes. Of course, to get rid of the filth on me, I need cleaning products. Like soap. I smile gracefully, a gesture Linn immediately responds to with one of her own before bowing her way out of the bathing quarters.

Alone at last. It takes no time for me to get in the water. I don't know how long Linn will be gone, so I decide not to linger. I hurry, not wanting to be caught butt naked. Not that there is much to see. There are some body parts I have yet to grow into. I take the soap from the basket and start washing off the dirt on my arms. Instantly, the water no longer is translucent. I see the traces of dirt that was imbedded in my skin flow away as my arms slowly start to gain back its cleanness. Mud makes way to porcelain skin, now somewhat reddish from all the repetitive scrubbing I've been doing.

After making sure there is not a single particle of filth left on my body, I look into the basket for what could be considered a kind of shampoo. The bottles don't have any labels on them – not that they would be written in English I'm sure. I open them up one by one until I just decide to use one. They all look the same to me. If it's not shampoo, I'm still pretty sure it's a cleaning product. It'll do the job anyway... and it smells heavenly.

After rubbing my head extensively, I dive under water. I rub my scalp and then thread my fingers into my hair, expecting to have to untangle the big bird's nest on my head. But to my surprise, every strand of hair separates willingly from each other. I resurface and can't help but stare at my hair. It should be a pain to brush after being mistreated the way it was. Instead, every broken ends seem to be repaired. It is no longer a dull wishy-washy colour. My now jet black hair actually shines. And not only does it look good, but it also feels silky soft. Elves really create wonders, even wonders as simple as amazing shampoo.

I glance around, making sure nobody slipped in the room without me noticing before climbing out of the bath. I hastily grab a towel and dab it on my body. I then tie it around my chest so it covers me a little below my butt. If someone comes in, all I have to do is not bend down at the waist and I should be fine. I pick up another towel and start drying my hair. As I do so, I look at the slippers and garments Linn left for me. From what I can tell, it's a dress; a long flowing blue dress. I groan, already analysing how I am going to walk in that thing. Well, I can't stay standing here forever.

I abandon my hair and pick up the dress, twisting it around. The material is light and soft on my fingers. I turn it upside down, searching for some claps or something like a zipper. Only there is nothing to tie it, so I guess I just have to pull it on. I turn it again, trying to figure out which side is the front. It would be just like me to put on a dress for the first time since I was five years old only to put it on backwards.

I slide one arm in a sleeve and do the same with the other, then pull my head through the neck hole. The dress comes easily down the rest of my body. I roam my fingers on my sides, feeling the smoothness of the fabric. It is a little loose around my form. I try to peak at my feet that are hidden from sight under the skirt that barely brushes the ground. It is the appropriate length I think yet it is too big. It probably belongs to someone a little rounder than me. But then again, everybody is always bigger than me. I then look to my arms that are completely unveiled as the sleeves open up at the shoulders in flowing cloths reaching a little lower than the tip of my fingers. At least those don't graze the ground as well. I am already worried enough about walking straight in this frock without tumbling to my death.

The sound of a door opening alerts me to the fact that someone just entered the bathing quarters. I spin around on myself and see Linn smiling at me. I try to reciprocate a smile but the elf's laugh makes me realise I am grimacing instead.

"I don't normally wear dresses." I grumble as an explanation as I fumble with my long skirt.

"Ladies do not wear dresses in your Kingdom?" _Kingdom?_ That's one way to define Earth. "I find this hard to believe. I have never heard of any parts of Middle Earth where the female's everyday attire is not a dress."

That is when I realise that Linn does not know my little secret. Aragorn may have explained everything to Lord Elrond, but Linn is not in the know. It does not seem to matter that she is caring for me at the moment. If she wasn't made aware of the situation, maybe I shouldn't reveal my true identity just yet. I doubt Linn is any danger to me but there has to be reason she does not know I am not from this world. I will have to wait until I have spoken with both Lord Elrond and Aragorn.

My internal reflection is interrupted when Linn's hand gently grabs mine, prying it away from its tight grasp on my skirt. I did not realise I was crushing the fabric, creasing it. "Sorry."

"You are nervous miss Maeve. Do not be. You are safe here." Linn may not know all there is to know about me, but she is far from stupid. It is quite clear she gets that I am not from around here, and that Aragorn found me in a bad shape. She probably came to the conclusion that I ran away from danger and that Aragorn in his shiny armour saved me from absolute death on his white stallion. Well, she's not that far off.

Linn bends down and picks up the towel I had discarded before. I am about to protest – because quite frankly, she's not my maid – when she gathers my hair in the towel, drying it as I did before.

"Your hair is so short." She says, her tone both curious and outraged.

"It's not that short." I pull at a black strand, feeling somewhat self-conscious. No matter that my neighbour's hair barely reached her ears, the way Linn talks about it, here hair is everything.

"Your Kingdom must be such a strange place."

And that is when I learned a fundamental thing about this world. Hair in Middle Earth, is the equivalent of an Armani suit on Earth. It reflects your social status with one glance. If you can wear an Armani suit, then you are at the top of the social pyramid. The longer you hair is, the higher you are. This basically means I am less than nothing with my hair barely reaching my shoulders.

"But why? And is it only for girls?"

"It is not an exact science. It is simply the way a person presents themselves to the world. Some ladies cut their hair a little shorter because they prefer it such ways. However, I have never seen one with hair such as yours."

I take a step away from Linn as I brush my fingers through my now mostly dried hair. I never took the time to question what my haircut said about me. It is naturally straight and it doesn't have any layers, let alone any bangs. I kept my hair this way simply because of its practical aspect. When training, it was long enough that I could pull it back and tie it in a small ponytail. It was also short enough that it wouldn't get in the way. I mean, it is just hair.

Realising that she made me uncomfortable, no matter how unintentional it was of her, she smiles sadly. "Come with me. My Lord Elrond will see you now."

I sigh and nod as I start gathering the little basket containing the soaps. Linn is folding the towels I used and making her way to the door. I slip inside the shoes that were given to me and quickly follow her. I set the basket where she had taken it before. She smiles, hangs my towels on a rod before sliding out the door.

As we make our way to Lord Elrond, Linn is pointing at paintings on walls, trees curved around columns, or corridors leading to certain rooms. I don't remember half of what she's saying to me. I am more focused on where my feet are stepping so I don't end up flat on my face.

Suddenly, Linn stops short and bow her head a little and lifts her arm to her chest. "Hîr nín."

She is right in front of me, her tall stature blocking my view. I tip to the right a little to glance over her arm and see what made her act so funny.

"Suilad, Gelinnassien." My eyes budge as they meet the gaze of the person I know most in this place. I barely recognized him, what with him not looking as roguish as he did the day before. I must say he really tidied up. Apparently, I wasn't the only one in dire need of a bath. I never really realised how dirty he was, probably because I never knew him as anything but. However, now that I think about it, why would he be any less filthy than I was? And God knows the water didn't change color for nothing.

His eyes, the true indication that I am looking at Aragorn, turn to Linn and they start talking in what I can only assume is Elvish. If you ask me, they are speaking complete and utter gibberish. Yet, it is so fluid and elegant like no other language I have ever heard. They don't speak for long, but long enough for me to feel a little left out. Then, Linn goes ahead and bows again. What a ridiculous notion that is; bowing to Aragorn. I mean, should I? I never bowed to him before and he never demanded it of me. Is he someone important? Yesterday, I would have laughed at the notion but now, with the way he holds himself and his attired, maybe he is. Yet again, to Linn everybody is a Lord or a Lady, even short haired me.

Rapidly, the elf turns to me. "I will leave you with Lord Aragorn. He will take you to Lord Elrond."

"Oh?" My small exclamation sounds like a question when in reality I couldn't be more elated. I have nothing against Linn, but that girl can talk. And I have to admit, I missed Aragorn a little.

"Will that be a problem?" Then, he has to say things like that with a smirk, knowing full well I do not mind his presence at all. The arrogant jerk.

Instead of biting to his rise, I respond offhandedly: "Wow, you cleaned up nice, Old Man. I almost didn't recognize you without your signature scoundrel-ish appearance."

"Thank you, Little One." He crosses his arms over his chest. "And look at you. Who knew you had so many freckles underneath all that dirt covered face of yours?"

"You know, there is a saying in the homeland of my mother that says: A face without freckles is like a night sky without stars." I rise up my chin, waiting to see what he will come up with to say next. Yet nothing comes.

Aragorn just stares at me for a moment, his eyes fixed on me. Then, the corners of his mouth pull up in a dazzling smile. A smile and return gladly. Yes, I missed him. Only a little though. I turn my head to the left and see Linn standing still, looking a mix between horrified and incredulous at our little banter.

"Oh, Linn." This seems to snap her out of her stillness as she tilts her head slightly, acknowledging me. "Thank you." In response, she smiles. She bows again, then turns to Aragorn and bows so more, only now a little lower before walking away. Interesting. So Aragorn is probably deserving of the _Lord_ title.

I turn to Aragorn, ready to question him about my little discovery when he interrupts my thoughts with an amused question of his own. "Linn?"

I look at him exasperated and slightly ashamed of myself. "What? You expect me to know how to pronounce her name?" I snort "Think again, Old Man."

He laughs and shakes his head in disbelief before he starts guide me on the path to Elrond. "Still. Linn?"

"Hey, I asked before I started calling her by that name. I'm not that insensitive, I'll have you know."

"What would you have done had she refused?" He asks, genuinely curious.

I think for a minute, not knowing what I would have done. I probably would have tried harder to learn how to say her name, butchering it completely in the process. Yeah, I'm pretty sure at some point I would have ended up calling her the classic I can't remember your name with my own personal flair added to it. "Hey-you-the-pointy-eared-chick?"

I love Aragorn's laugh. It comes from deep within and cannot be faked. It is enough to make me smile for minutes on end. And apparently, it's enough to make me lose all my balance. I don't really know what happened. One second I was standing upright and walking as graceful as I personally can; the next my skirt came to life and entangled itself in my legs. The result: my face dived first to kiss the beloved ground. This time around, Aragorn was not fast enough to catch me. Good thing I have remotely good reflexes otherwise my nose would have caught the fall, not my hands.

"Are you alright, Little One?" Aragorn is crouching next to my fallen body. He gently lays his hand on my shoulder. When he hears me grumbling about cloth deathtrap he snorts. "Did you just fall?" The arrogant jerk.

"No, the ground just came up and smacked me in my face!"

He grabs both my arms and yanks me upright once more, all the while still chuckling.

"Shut up." I pull my right palm to my mouth, trying to stop the small trail of blood.

"Here." Aragorn pulls out a cloth from his pocket. He drags me to a small fountain around the corner. He literally shoves my hand in the water before pulling it back and examining my hand up close.

"What are you doing? Improvising yourself a doctor?"

The look he gives me clearly state that he does not understand the word I used. "Euh... a healer?"

His eyes then dance with mirth before he crooks a smile. "Well, I would have you know that I am trained in the healing arts, Little One."

He starts pulling out the pebbles that are imbedded in my hand. He dips his handkerchief in water and dabs it gently on my palm.

"A healer, a warrior, a hunter, a rescuer of damsels in distress..." I chuckle. "Is there anything you can't do?"

He opens my hand and turns it around, seemingly looking for any other apparent injury. He lets it go with a satisfied nod.

"I can't for the life of me lick my own elbow. I don't know why." He winks at me. I roll my eyes at him. When I look back at him, I see he is slowly walking backwards. He points with his thumb behind his shoulder to an archway in a building. "Lord Elrond is waiting for you in there."

I stare at the entryway. This is it. This is the moment where my questions will be answered. This is where I will learn how to get back home. Yet, I'm frozen in place. There is something... unsettling about this place. Maybe it is fear of the unknown, fear of the answers I will soon receive. This is mind, the only I want is Aragorn to be in there with me.

"You're going to be in there, right?" I look at him with uncertainty.

He smiles before nodding. "Of course."

* * *

 **Please review if you have something to say about anything, really. And keep on hanging tight for the next chapter that will come in the foreseeable future. Someday... Hopefully before pigs fly.**

 **With love, Anna.**


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